


Idio(t)syncracies

by IndigoDream



Series: The Idio(t)s [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Bathing/Washing, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Swords, Twins, but they are all fine, it does get some lil emotional angst, like the previous one, this is absolute chaos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23797450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/pseuds/IndigoDream
Summary: Idiosyncracies: 1) a characteristic, habit, mannerism, or the like, that is peculiar to an individual.2) the physical constitution peculiar to an individual.Idio(t)syncracies: Is it quirky to challenge to a swordfight your twin brother's lover?--In all fairness, Julian hasn’tshotGeralt, so he technically is still on the right side of things. He’s even willing that, considering the situation, he is perfectly right to have punched the white wolf.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Lambert/Original Male Character
Series: The Idio(t)s [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714507
Comments: 37
Kudos: 180





	Idio(t)syncracies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChaosWriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosWriting/gifts).



> Yeah so, I'm back at it kids lmao 
> 
> This is still for ChaosWriting, and for everyone who read and loved the first part! This one is a lil bit more emotional, and maybe a lil less fun, but Julian and Jaskier wanted to be soft and to be loving each other so _shrug_ who am i to argue with that?? 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this !!
> 
> Also as a pre-note: in medieval times etc, colleges were a "start at 14/15 yo" kinda thing, which is what I used as a reference for some of the experiences of Julian and Jaskier!

Kaer Morhen is quiet in the early morning. It’s strange, Julian would have expected the witchers to wake up at dawn and start their activities as early as they could, but no. It turns out the wolves catch up on months of little to no sleep. So Julian is the first one awake every day, extracting himself from Lambert’s arms carefully. He is considerate enough not to wake up his lover; he can see how months of hunting have left him exhausted. 

Most mornings, Julian simply restocks the fire in the Great Hall, and then goes down to the kitchen to start up on the breakfast. He had let the witchers cook for a few mornings, but they are all terrible at it. All nutrition and no flavours, and frankly, that should be a crime. Julian was raised in a fine noble household, and even when out in the woods, he knows to keep his spices and herbs around. Since they’ve arrived, Jaskier and Ciri have helped out with the meals, and the witchers have also tried to listen to their instructions, but it turns out none of them can manage to make a good meal, even if they are following a recipe. It’s as if their mere presence in a kitchen stops the food from working as food should. So Julian cooks. 

“Julian!” 

That would be the voice of his brother, who is surprisingly already at the kitchen table, a warm cup of tea in his hands.

“You’re up early,” Julian grunts and serves himself a cup of tea too. Might as well match his little brother’s energy, it might keep him from doing anything foolish. Though, considering the determination on Jaskier’s face, that might already be a lost cause. 

“We need to talk, dear brother.” Jaskier’s nails taps on the table, a bit too long. “And it is _serious_.”

“The witcher’s been enjoying your nails?” Julian sips on his tea, sitting across from him. 

“He has,” Jaskier says shamelessly, “I suppose yours has been enjoying your teeth?” 

“Were we not loud enough last night?” Julian’s grin is wide and his brother rolls his eyes. “Come on, what is it you want to talk about with me?” 

“You have to know,” Jaskier looks almost pained now, his face turned to his brother and pleading clear in his eyes. “It doesn’t exactly thrill me to be doing this, but we really must. It’s been almost two weeks since we have both been here, and I’ve tried giving you your space, we all have, and I understand it’s not something you are used to, but still. We are brothers, and twins! If we cannot be honest with one another, then I don’t think that—“ 

“Out with it, Jaskier,” Julian growls. “It’s too early for you to be blabbering on and on, and I haven’t eaten yet.” 

“You need a bath,” Jaskier says gravely. “And it has become quite urgent.” 

Julian balks at that. “A bath? I clean myself almost every day with a basin and—“ 

“I’m sorry, but you do.” There is no guilt in Jaskier’s eyes, and he slowly stands up. “My dear brother, it is with regret that I must tell you, even I refuse to let this go on much further.” 

“You can’t _make_ me,” Julian hisses and curls up on his seat, away from his brother’s hands. “I’m the oldest and—“ 

Julian hates, _hates_ , when he forgets that he and Jaskier are, unfortunately, similar to the extent that their strength is evenly matched. Jaskier drags him out of the kitchen and, when he grows tired of the hissing and fussing of his brother, simply punches him in the stomach and lifts him over his shoulder. Inhuman strength always comes in handy in those moments, and Julian gasps as he is put across his brother’s shoulders like an heavy towel. 

“Put me down,” he growls and tries to bite his brother, but Jaskier jostles him slightly. “Jaskier!”

“Stop whining, Jules,” Jaskier says serenely. “This is for your own good. You’ll thank me afterwards.” 

“I don’t want to bath! The water’s going to be cold and then I’ll be cold and—“ 

“Gods forbid, are you five again? And no, the water will not be cold,” Jaskier’s annoyance is clear as he walks outside. 

“The air is cold,” Julian yells and Jaskier rolls his eyes. Julian might not see it, but he knows it. “Bring me back inside immediately, Jask!”

Jaskier just ignores him after that. He mumbles a quiet “I get why Geralt’s always complaining” as he walks down a flight of small stairs that lead back to the castle, although it is quite decrepit. The air is warm here, and it smells like water, but Julian can’t see much for a few seconds. They are fully engulfed into darkness until they reach the bottom of the stairs. 

He barely has the time to register that there is a hot water pool before he is thrown in it. The water is deep enough that he doesn’t hit the bottom and hurts himself, but it’s not deep enough that he doesn’t come back out quickly. 

“What the fuck,” he yells at his brother, blinking his eyes rapidly, “I’m still dressed Jaskier!” 

“It’s my deepest regret to inform you that your clothes also stink,” Jaskier says without any regret. “And what, you wanted to be put down now? What are you complaining about?” 

Julian splashes water at him, but Jaskier only steps back, removing his doublet. Damn him and all his fancy clothes. It wouldn’t kill him to wear normal clothes. When he points this out, his twin gasps, offended. 

“I wear normal clothes, thank you very much. I just happen to like dressing well, and to look my best. It’s a wonder you ever managed to get a man like Lambert in your bed with your awful disregard for personal hygiene and your two outfits only wardrobe.” 

“He doesn’t exactly get fucked when I have clothes on,” Julian grins, “does your witcher fuck you when you have clothes on?” 

Jaskier throws a sponge at him, too fast for Julian to catch it. “Here, wash yourself a bit, you heathen.” 

“You are the one who insisted I bath,” Julian whines and only gets soap thrown at him for it. It hits him in the face, and he puts it away with the sponge, quickly undressing and tossing away his drenched clothes. “Aren’t you going to bathe as well?” 

“I’ll have you know I already bathed last night.” 

“Bedtime got a bit messy?” 

“Oh, dear brother,” Jaskier’s smirk is wicked, and suddenly Julian regrets teasing him. “If you knew what Geralt could do, you would know how messy I can get.” 

Julian pulls a face of disgust. “Gross.” 

“You’re the one who asked,” Jaskier’s voice is close enough to a tune that he starts singing softly afterwards. 

Despite how annoying it is, Julian has to admit there is something… _nice_ about the hot water and the soap. It feels like when they were younger, when they would share baths and talk about their latest conquests. Julian had always preferred men, only men, but Jaskier didn’t care for the gender of his partner. Or partners, Julian reminds himself, as a memory of walking inside their shared bedroom at Oxenfurt to Jaskier loudly moaning while two other people were taking care of him. Ugh. It’s really one of those memories he wish he could forget. Maybe he should ask Yennefer if she could do that for him.

“Do you need help with your hair?” Jaskier has rolled his pants up and is sitting next to him, feet in the water. 

Julian is tempted to get his revenge on his brother right away, but he doesn’t want to break the peacefulness of the moment. Instead, he simply nods and lets Jaskier take care of him. It’s not strange, Jaskier likes buying him clothes and perfumes every time they meet up, but they rarely take the time to really be with each other like this. It’s been years since Julian spent more than a week with his twin. _I missed him_ , he realizes as Jaskier’s hands work on the knots of hair, the bard grumbling. 

“How you can keep it so short and not take care of it? It’s so easy to just brush your hair in the morning, Jules…” 

Julian hums. “Do you ever think about what it would be like to travel together?” 

Jaskier stills slightly, before picking back up his movements. “I mean, it would be quite a mess wouldn’t it? We have two different lifestyles. And well. Now I’m probably going to start travelling with Geralt again, although he does have Ciri to take care off so that’s a thing…” 

“I guess so,” Julian breathes out. “Woulda been nice though, like the first summer in Oxenfurt. Touring the inns together.” 

A chuckle echos in the cave. “You mean the first summer we got really hammered and got our asses kicked out of the best tavern of the region for seducing both the innkeeper’s daughter and his son? Sure, that was a really nice summer.” 

“Not our fault the two were horny teenagers just like we were,” Julian grins. “First shag I had too.” 

“Gods, yes, I remember. You didn’t stop talking about it for weeks.” He grabs some water and cleans the soap from Julian’s hair. “It was a nice change of pace, to see you so… open about your feelings.” 

“Don’t need to be, when I’ve got you for that. Plus, aren’t my songs nice enough?” 

“Oh, they are great,” Jaskier smiles and keeps playing with his twin’s hair, pushing a product through the short brown hair. “It’s just nice to see that you have feelings, when you’re with Lambert. He’s good for you, isn’t he?” 

Julian grins and his twin hits him lightly on the head before he can answer anything salacious. Still, Jaskier is right. Lambert _is_ good for Julian. Until he met him and fell in love with him, Julian hadn’t realized how badly he had isolated himself, how little contacts with other people he got. Granted, he still doesn’t like it much, but here, in Kaer Morhen, with his twin at his side? He doesn’t mind all the others so much. It feels good to joke around with Eskel at lunch, to train with Ciri at sword fight. The catty, never too serious, fights between Yennefer and Jaskier are fun to watch, and Geralt, despite being _Geralt_ , can also be quite fun. Vesemir has taken the role of father figure to all of them, and it fills Julian with warmth to be considered like part of the family, despite how little time he has spent there. 

“Yes,” he finally says, when Jaskier is done with all the products in his hair and has brushed it in a pleasing shape. “He’s good for me. I hope Geralt is good for you too, Jask.” 

“He is. He has apologized, you know? Frankly, I’m a little bit lost on the exact details of what he told you on that mountain, but he has told me that he is sorry. And that he is glad I’m part of his life. So please don’t shoot him again?” 

Julian laughs a bit. “Well, right now I don’t have my crossbow, do I? I’ll do my best not to shoot him.” 

—

Julian has just managed to free himself from his brother’s grip, and he is back to the kitchen, making breakfast for their strange, misshapen family. Ciri will be up soon, and then Yennefer, and after that it’s a matter of guessing for which of the witchers will come down, the smell of food dragging them away from their warm beds. 

Footsteps in the entrance of the kitchen let him know that someone is awake, and considering the heaviness of the steps, he would say it’s a witcher. He has learned that they don’t care at all for how loud they are when they are here, so unlike how they sneak around the Continent. Julian gets it, it’s easier to hunt if you are not noticed by your prey until the very last minute. When he is safe though, he always struggles to let his footsteps be heard. He is so used to the quiet and calm of the woods, where he is bothered only by preys and the occasional traveler, that he forgets to make enough noise to be heard sometimes. 

He doesn’t turn around to look at who it is; the food on the stove is cooking fast and he is trying not to burn it. When arms sneak around his waist, he doesn’t even look down. It’s not uncommon for Lambert to drape himself over his shoulders like this. 

Then, he notices that hair is tickling his neck. Lambert doesn’t have hair long enough for this. There is only one witcher in Kaer Morhen who has long hair. 

“You left the bed early this morning,” Geralt mumbles, clearly not yet aware of his mistake. “I thought after last night you would be exhausted.”

Julian doesn’t even really think, he simply lets his elbow go strong enough in Geralt’s stomach that the man is sent backward into the kitchen table. 

In all fairness, Julian hasn’t _shot_ Geralt, so he technically is still on the right side of things. He’s even willing that, considering the situation, he is perfectly right to have punched the white wolf. 

“What the fuck,” Geralt groans as he gets back up, and then suddenly realizes why he just got punched. “Julian.” 

“Yup,” Julian answers, crossing his arms and pushing the food away from the stove. He is not letting it burn while he hunts the witcher, absolutely not. 

“Shit.” Geralt is off in a sprint in a second, but Julian also happens to be fast. 

“Come back here you bastard,” he yells through the castle, passing a startled Ciri who is lounging on a chair in the Great Hall, “I’ll make you regret the day you came out of your mother’s womb!” 

“They started early this morning,” Yennefer comments to Ciri, but Julian pays them no heed. He is a man on a _mission_. 

Just as Geralt reaches the base of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, Julian throws himself at him and tackles him to the ground. The witcher fights back, rolling around and snarling at his lover’s twin, but Julian only snarls back and shakes him. 

“Are you ever going to start seeing the difference between Jask and I?” 

“Good morning Julian,” Eskel says cheerily, walking down the stairs. “Geralt, you’ve truly never looked better than right now.” 

“Fuck off Eskel,” Geralt growls and then looks back at Julian. “You two look identical! And you smell like Jaskier, which is _weird_.” 

Fucking bath, Julian wants to shake his brother until he realizes this is exactly _why_ they need to have two different looking attires. The idea of a scar is more appealing now, Julian thinks as Eskel laughs as he passes them by. For good measure, he shakes Geralt one more time, enjoying the way the witcher seems to be trying to resist but can’t. 

Then, he leaves Geralt at the bottom of the stairs and follows Eskel. 

“Hey, Eskel, you wouldn’t happen to want to give me a scar, do you? Or like, tell me where I can find some monster that would help with that?” 

“If any monsters get to scar you,” Geralt grumbles, “it ought to be me.” 

“Oh please,” Julian rolls his eyes at him. “You couldn’t even hurt me if you tried.”

“Want to bet?” 

“Sure,” Julian shrugs, a smirk on his face. He is going to annihilate that witcher. “Swords, in the courtyard, in ten minutes?” 

Geralt seems to hesitate at the confidence displayed by Julian. He clearly isn’t used to people challenging him this way, not when everyone knows of him and his prowess. Most of which, Julian is aware, were propagated by _his own writing_. Sometimes, he regrets allowing Jaskier to talk him into this. Jaskier had been so excited when they had met up again after the episode with the elves, and Julian likes to see his brother happy, so of course he had agreed to shadow their movements, to meet up with Jaskier whenever they could so that he could help with the songs. 

“Fine,” the witcher finally agrees, and there are startled noises from Ciri behind them. “I get to use my own sword.” 

“Then I get to use Lambert’s,” Julian grins. “Meet you in ten.” 

Julian bolts upstairs to his bedroom, startling Lambert as he is slowly emerging from sleep. His lover is truly beautiful, all his scars exposed as he is still naked, and the cold winter sun blaring in his eyes. 

“What’s going on?” His voice is still rough from sleep. “Why the fuck are you running already? Why do you _smell_ like fucking flowers?” 

Julian sighs and grabs the steel sword of his witcher. “Duel with Geralt, I’m borrowing this!” 

“Wait, what?” 

Julian is already out of the door again. He has already trained with this sword, against Lambert even, and it’s not too unnatural in his hand. It’s not his favourite style, and he much prefers any type of bow, but for a duel? This is the perfect sword. 

“Good mo—“ Vesemir interrupts himself with a strangled choke. “Why do you have a sword?” 

“Fighting Geralt,” Julian answers cheerily and runs outside of the castle.

Geralt is already there, talking with Ciri and Eskel. Yennefer is sipping on hot cider and she claps him on the shoulder. 

“Bring him down, will you?” She grins and looks towards Geralt. “He needs it.” 

Julian laughs slightly, drawing his opponent’s attention, and nods at the sorceress. “Will do.” 

Eskel lifts Ciri and brings her on the side of the courtyard, and then the fight begins. 

Geralt attacks first, all brute force and no grace, and really, Jaskier fell in love with him? Julian is almost disappointed by his brother’s taste. Jaskier had always said he liked the fine things in life, and frankly? Julian is having trouble finding the finer things in Geralt. He is strong, yes, and definitely attractive, Julian can’t deny that, but well. Julian just doesn’t see the appeal. 

Parrying the first hit with ease, Julian attacks too, slipping under Geralt’s defence and hitting him lightly on the arm. He is just having fun, not trying to actively hurt Geralt. He knows his brother would be angry if he did, and he did promise earlier to try not to hurt him. There is a line between shooting and cutting with a sword that Julian should probably not cross. 

Lambert emerges out of the castle with only pants on, and he smirks as he sees the two of them sparring. 

“Kick his ass, Julian,” he shouts over the sound of steel on steel. 

“Anything for you,” Julian winks and avoids another of Geralt’s hit. It’s more graceful now, less brute strength and more trying to slip past Julian’s careful eyes. 

“Julian! Geralt! Put those swords down immediately!” 

Both of them still at Jaskier’s voice, and for the first time, Julian feels sympathy for the white-haired witcher. Jaskier is not just angry, he is absolutely _pissed_ and marching towards them angrily. 

“Fuck,” both fighters say at once, and they exchange a panicked glance. 

“Listen Jask,” Julian says, keeping his sword as far away from his body as he can, “this was all a friendly joust and—“ 

He can’t keep speaking, or rather lying, because his twin has tackled him to the hard ground. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him anymore!” 

“To be fair, I said that I wouldn’t shoot him anymore,” Julian pleads. “But he is alright. Aren’t you alright Geralt?” 

“Perfectly fine. Jaskier, we are both alright, as he said this was just… a friendly joust.” 

The way the words seem to stay stuck in his throat is a very good indication that he is lying, and Julian glares at him. Could he try to be even worse at lying if he tried? 

“You are a bad liar, Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier stands up, pulling his brother back on his feet. “And if you ever attempts to duel my twin brother again, I’m going to be the one you duel.” 

“You can’t lift a Witcher’s sword though,” Geralt says, a bit confused. 

Julian doesn’t have the time to sigh that Lambert’s sword is torn away from his hand. 

“You wanna bet?” Jaskier glares at his lover, and Geralt looks startled, but also slightly aroused, and Julian wants to puke.

“Alright, enough of this,” Vesemir sighs, ushering everyone back inside. “All swords back to their sheath, to their rightful owners, and no more fighting for the day. We haven’t even had breakfast, that couldn’t even wait until after that?” 

Geralt and Julian shrugs, remorseless, but they both obey Vesemir. Jaskier storms away, angrily talking to himself, and Julian catches some of his words. The bard can be very imaginative in his descriptions when he wants to, Julian winces as he hears a particularly strongly worded insult directed at him. 

— 

Breakfast is a quiet affair after that, though Ciri and Eskel try to keep up a steady stream of chatter. Jaskier isn’t at the table, and Geralt is looking distressed by the fact. Halfway through his breakfast, he grabs the empty plate set for Jaskier and fills it with some candied fruits and one of the potato pancakes Julian had refused to burn earlier. The white-haired witcher leaves the table without any explanation, but everyone knows what he is doing. 

Yennefer is curled up with Ciri in her lap afterwards, holding a cup of spiked hot chocolate, and Julian really wants to ask for some, but he has a feeling Ciri doesn’t know there is liquor in it, and he doesn’t want to be responsible for a child asking for alcohol. Not right now at least. 

Julian is trying to play a game of cards with Eskel, Lambert and Vesimir, but his mind keeps wandering to Jaskier. He has seen his brother angry many times before, but it doesn’t mean he likes it any better right now. It always feel somewhat wrong to be at odds with Jaskier. Julian has always protected him, made sure he was safe and happy as much as possible. So to know that his brother is mad at him, that he refuses to be in the same room as him… Oddly, it hurts.

Lambert’s hand settles on his knee, reassuring and warm, and Julian sighs. He knows what his lover is about to say. 

“You are too worried,” Lambert says, “You should find your brother and have a talk with him.” 

“He doesn’t want my company right now, I’m sure.” He looks back down at his cards, shoulder falling a bit. The idea that Jaskier doesn’t want him around _hurts_.

“If it were true, he wouldn’t want Geralt’s company either, and I’m sure your brother only wants you two to get along.” Lambert brings him close with a gentle hand wrapped around his neck, a soft caress that Julian leans in. “Jaskier loves you two, and you are his twin brother. He’ll forgive you, but you two need to talk.” 

“That’s rich coming from you,” Eskel snorts but shuts up when Vesemir kicks him under the table. 

Julian and Lambert glares at Eskel in one movement, but then Julian sighs and nods at his lover. 

“Alright. You’re right. I’ll go find him. Kick Eskel’s ass for me, will you?” He leans in for a kiss, bites Lambert’s lips and smirks. “I’ll reward you tonight, if you do it.” 

Lambert smirks back. “Anything for you, my love.” 

By the time Julian is halfway through the door, there is a loud crash and Vesemir sighs loudly as he gathers Ciri and Yennefer away. 

“Things are really never boring here.” Yennefer’s comment is the last thing Julian hears besides grunts and the sound of fighting witchers. 

He laughs slightly to himself. Eskel shouldn’t have made fun of Lambert. Julian doesn’t like it when anyone bothers his lover for having emotions, even if the person doing it is Eskel, his friend and Lambert’s brother. Julian knows how to best get whatever he wants, and if that includes promising sex so his boyfriend will stand up for himself, then he’ll do it. Plus, he just really loves when Lambert is begging for him. 

Getting all thoughts away from Lambert, Julian finds the library. He has seen Jaskier going up there a few times while they were all doing something else. Julian remembers how much his brother had loved reading when they were kids. It had been something he could never shut up about, the way he wanted adventures and glory, and all the romance and beauty of it. It’s something that Julian has always admired in Jaskier, his endless hope and belief that good things would be coming. 

He walks in the library, not paying attention to how quiet he is being. It’s just second nature at this point, and even if Jaskier is startled by his presence, it won’t be making the situation any worse. Julian wonders along the books, touching their spines lightly. Everything has this feeling of ancient, something Julian remembers from Oxenfurt’s beautiful library. It’s strange, to be thinking back to the school. That was the last time he had spent so much time with Jaskier, the last time his songs hadn’t been just Jaskier’s but also his own, because despite his awful voice, Jaskier would coat him into singing them with him. He would help with the writing too, sometimes. Now, the songs are Jaskier’s. Even if Julian writes them, it doesn’t have anything from him. Because Julian doesn’t have anything to sing about. 

Well, that’s not quite true. He could sing about Lambert, sing about his beautiful witcher, sing about the quietness of the woods in the early morning, when the world is still soft around the edges and there is nothing to break that. He could write poems upon poems about his lover, who sleeps so peacefully here, who trusts Julian to watch his back and to love him. He could delve into all that, but to what end? Julian is only one half of the duo, the silent one. Jaskier is the one who needs the performance. Julian likes his quiet role enough. He can tell Lambert everything he could write, and Lambert might tease him and make fun of him, but every single compliment goes to his heart. 

Julian walks deeper in the library, and stops when he sees Jaskier. Well, Geralt and Jaskier. Because the two of them are sitting underneath a window, captured in a tender embrace, Jaskier’s eyes closed as he enjoys the strong caresses of Geralt’s hand on his naked back. That’s the worst part of it. Both of them are halfway out of their clothings, and there is a large bite mark on Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Can’t you two stay dressed and not fuck outside of your bedroom?” 

Jaskier startles, but Geralt stabilizes him on his lap, holding him tightly as they both tense at the interruption. Neither of them blush, rather Jaskier grabs a book laying on the floor in front of him, and throws it at his twin. Julian doesn’t have any trouble catching it, and when he sees that it’s only Jaskier’s own notebook, he lets it fall to the floor. 

“Get out of here!” Jaskier yells, but Julian doesn’t move. “Why are you always sneaking up on us?” 

“Why are you two even undressing each other and fucking in random places? Ciri could have walked in!” 

“If Ciri had come in,” Geralt grunts, helping Jaskier pulls back on his shirt, “I would have heard her because she makes noises as she walks.” 

“What, are you saying you can’t hear me walking?” Julian’s right eyebrow arches up. “Aren’t you supposed to have enhanced senses?” 

“You’re the one who always sneaks up on people,” Jaskier growls angrily. “Don’t insult Geralt. What do you even want?” 

The reality of what he had meant to do is brought back to him with this question, and Julian gulps. “Can we talk privately?” 

“No,” Jaskier says, not moving from his curled up position on top of Geralt, who simply wraps his arm around him more loosely again. “If there is anything you want to tell me, you can tell it to Geralt. I told you, I love him and I trust him with my life. More importantly, I would trust him with yours.”

The simple remark shocks Julian. “You trust him that much?” 

“Would you not trust Lambert with my life?” Jaskier looks at him with piercing eyes. “Do you not think your lover would keep me safe, not even simply because he likes me, but because you matter to me?” 

“I would,” Julian admits, “but then you haven’t shot Lambert.” 

“Yet.” Jaskier grins almost teasingly, and then seems to remember he is angry. “So what do you want?” 

“I meant to…” and the words don’t hurt, but they are tight and difficult, and Julian wishes he could have written them down before. He doesn’t do heartfelt apologies like this usually. Whenever he and Jaskier have a fight, Jaskier always comes to find him and they can talk. But this, this feels different. Because they aren’t teens anymore, they aren’t living together and sharing everything anymore. And Julian needs to step up, to do what’s right in the way his brother wants him to. 

“I meant to apologize for starting a fight with Geralt this morning,” Julian says, in a rush. “I knew you wouldn’t like it, and yet I still did it. I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I’m sorry that I keep… fighting with the man you’ve chosen as your companion.” 

Jaskier hums, passes his hand in Geralt’s chest hairs, who only smiles a bit and kisses his bard’s forehead, looking tender. 

“Do go on,” Jaskier says and turns his eyes back to Julian. “Don’t you have more to say?” 

_Fuck_ , Jaskier knows him too well. 

“Fine,” Julian relents. “I’m sorry that my attempts at protecting you keep hurting you. You’re right in saying that I’m a mess, but I fucking miss you, Jask. I miss you and I feel like…” he doesn’t want to say the words, but he knows he needs to, because otherwise Jaskier will never forgive him properly, will never forget that Julian has been nothing but an asshole to the man he has been loving for twenty years. “I thought that we would get more time together, but you’re always with Geralt and I miss talking and spending time with you,” he finally grits out. 

Jaskier sits up, eyes wide in shock. Maybe he hadn’t been expecting that, but it’s the truth. Julian misses his brother, and he hates that he misses him so much. They are both in their mid-thirties, but being so close yet again to Jaskier has made Julian realize that his brother and him have grown apart so much that sometimes, he looks at the man who looks just like him and wonders who that man is. He looks at the man curled up on Geralt’s chest and remembers the boy who couldn’t settle down with anyone, the boy who was so afraid of being loved by anyone that he wouldn’t let himself love. How could Julian have missed all of this? How could he have grown away from his brother so much? 

Jaskier’s arms closes around him. “It’s alright, I’m here,” he breathes out, and Julian holds onto him, and he cries. 

They are both crying, softly and into each other’s shirt, sobbing through the clothing without any care. They are twins, and they are together again, and it feels so, so good. Julian forgets for a moment how ugly the world can be, because he has his brother in his arms and he is happy again. 

—

Geralt has left the room without either of them noticing, but Jaskier doesn’t seem to mind when he realizes. 

“Oh, he always does that,” he sniffles and smiles, happy tears shining in his eyes. “Giving me the space I need when my emotions get overwhelming.” 

“Right,” Julian nods and wonders how that’s a good strategy. If that happened to him, he would ask Lambert to fuck him until he forgets his own self. But well. Different things for different people. 

“You don’t have to like him,” Jaskier says softly, but there is a disappointed note in his voice. 

“I want to give it a try,” Julian asserts and squeezes his brother’s shoulder. “He is important to you. And… you are clearly important to him as well. I might think he is a right git, but I can’t deny that you two matter a whole lot to each other. I don’t get it, because you could have anyone you wanted but—“

“But I want _him_ ,” Jaskier says. “I love him. He is good, and so kind and gentle. He may pretends to be annoyed with me, but I also know that he loves me. It’s not the same as you and Lambert. To be honest with you, I don’t get your relationship with Lambert much either. But I can see that you love him, and I can see that he loves you. That’s enough for me. Isn’T that enough for you to at least tolerate Geralt?” 

Julian reluctantly agrees, and then sighs. “Tell me more about Geralt then.”

“You look like you would rather throw yourself out of the window than listen to me talk about him,” Jaskier chuckles but sits at a table with him. “What do you want to know?” 

“Everything,” Julian answers. “Well, no, keep your sex life out of it, I think I have had enough details today to last me until the end of my life.”

Jaskier laughs, and starts talking. And Julian listens, sees the love in his brother’s tone, but he also sees the way he openly talks about the hardships he and Geralt have lived through. There is heartbreak and bitterness in his voice as he talks about the Djinn and nearly losing his voice, a detail he had kept to himself previously, and Julian tries to not go immediately after Geralt and beat him up when Jaskier tells him that Geralt’s misplaced wish nearly got his brother killed. Rather, he sits still and reminds himself that his brother is alive and well.

He listens to his brother talk about Geralt, and he understands. Jaskier loves him, truly does, and he sees the flaws in his witcher, but he also sees beyond, and Julian understands now. He is happy fo his brother. And he feels like he gained back his brother. He can’t help it, he drags Jaskier in a hug again and holds him tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, but Jaskier hits his side. 

“Stop apologizing, it’s weird. And … Well.” Jaskier smiles and shrugs. “You did it to protect me. I would rather you don’t kill Geralt, but the intention was sweet.” 

“So I can’t shoot him for the Djinn incident,” Julian teases, grinning as he tickles his brother, “isn’t it?” 

Jaskier laughs but he doesn’t get away from his twin. “Can he hit you for the time you shot a bolt through my knee?” 

“We were fifteen,” Julian gasps. “I wasn’t yet a master of my weapon and you are fine now! And who told him about that?”

“I did, when he asked about the scar. He got a very, very dark look on his face,” Jaskier says a bit dreamily and Julian resists the urge to gag. How disgusting, his brother is truly head over heels in love. “And then he said he would always treat me right.” 

“And then he fucked you senseless I assume,” Julian comments drily.

Jaskier laughs again and grins at his brother. “And then I fucked him senseless. He looks so good when I—“

“Alright that’s enough,” Julian half-yells, covering his brother’s mouth with his hand, “I don’t want to hear more, keep all your gross sappy feelings and fucking for yourself and your man, for the love of the gods!” 

Jaskier smirks. “Are you sure? I’m sure we could make a good song out of it.” 

“The gods protect us if you two write something about fucking Geralt,” Lambert’s voice startles the two brothers. “Might pay for it though. Would like to see how my brother reacts to that.” 

Julian grins. “You won the fight?” 

“Have I ever lost?” The smirk on his lover’s face is answer enough for Julian. 

“Alright, enough with the two of you now,” Jaskier says and shoves his brother away. “If I don’t get to talk about Geralt like that, you two don’t get to do your weird foreplay in front of me.” 

“Maybe we like an audience,” Lambert smirks, only to get thrown a book at his face by each twin. 

“Twin brothers,” Jaskier shouts as Julian yells, “don’t be gross!” 

Lambert catches the books and smiles slightly. “Alright, I take it back. I was just coming to check up on you two because Geralt said something about not knowing if Julian was going to decapitate him?” 

Julian grins. “Nah, not unless he does something to harm Jask and I get Jaskier’s consent. Plus, we all know I would go for his balls before going for his head.” 

“Naturally,” Jaskier sighs, but it’s fond and he jostles his brother’s shoulder. “Alright, back downstairs, I think Vesemir mentioned something about the outside wall yesterday, needing some repair?” 

Lambert groans loudly. “Don’t remind him, if you have even an ounce of morals, don’t remind him.” 

Jaskier grins, devilish, and he only takes the time to grab back his notebook before he is off running back to the Great Hall. 

Lambert stares after him and groans. “Fuck.” 

“What an eloquent response,” Julian grins and pushes Lambert against one of the shelves. “Vesemir can’t force you to do tasks if you’re too busy doing something else though, can he?” 

Lambert groans again, more pleasure this time, as Julian’s fingers nimbly slip under his shirt and caress his torso. Julian attacks his neck next, biting there softly and enjoying the shivers of the body against his. Lambert, for all he is supposedly silent and grumpy, is so reactive underneath his touch. 

“You two, out of there,” Eskel’s voice comes from the entrance of the library. “I don’t care if you’re fucking like rabbits, if I have to rebuild this wall with only Geralt while Jaskier pretends he is a weak little thing that can only sing, I’m burning your room tonight.” 

It’s Julian’s turn to groan unhappily. “Fine. We’ll be there.” 

“Don’t turn my brother to mush in the meantime,” Eskel shouts back, and then he is off. 

Lambert is almost pouting, something that delights Julian. “You look like a kid who’s favourite toy has been taken away.” 

“You’re my favourite toy,” Lambert grins and bites Julian’s lips. “So I guess the metaphor’s fitting.” 

“Ew,” Julian says, full of fondness and taking Lambert’s hand, dragging him away. “Don’t be gross and sappy on me. I didn’t sign up for that shit.” 

Lambert laughs, something that, no matter how many times he hears it, Julian always loves. He steals another kiss from his lover’s mouth and smiles. Things will be better from now on. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ya ever had your sibling (whom you love to the end of the end and back) talk about their sex life and experienced the very strange mix of "good for you my dude" and "ew ew ew gross i don't wanna hear about that"? yah. shoutout to my sister's squeaky bed that I heard whenever she brought her bfs home, you inspired this fic greatly. 
> 
> Ok, i don't have anything funny to say this time, for I am a little tired goblin... 
> 
> Leave a comment, tell me if you want more! Come check me out (well not me but like. metaphysical me. anyway) on tumblr @saltytransidiot ! I sometimes post snippets of fics. Sometimes. Ya gotta be real nice to me if you want some 
> 
> (kidding I'm a slut for validation and I'll just randomly decide to overshare the fics i'm writing)


End file.
